


two to tango

by Darkfromday



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn's just here for the death, F/M, Luna is amused by all of this, Noctis is a mega dork, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkfromday/pseuds/Darkfromday
Summary: Niflheim and Lucis come together for peace talks, with a few extra embarrassing stipulations. Noctis is not amused or ready. Fortunately, Luna is.





	two to tango

**Author's Note:**

> [A fill for the kinkmeme that I just couldn't resist.](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=10120331#cmt10120331)
> 
>    
> Takes place in an AU where the war isn't going great for either side, thus leading to some (genuine??) dialogue about peace.

“Noct, your collar is out of place.”

Noctis took two deep breaths—one for strength and another for patience. This was the  _third time_  Ignis had smoothed out his formal wear, or tried to flatten his hair, or offered him a peppermint—  
  
“Iggy, I know you’re trying to help. But if you reach over here one more time—”  
  
Ignis huffed. And still managed to push one of Noct’s loose strands into place, stubborn man that he was. “It’s important that you look your absolute best for the Niflheim delegation.”  
  
“What’s the point?” he asked irritably. “Getting all dressed up for those…”  
  
He was quickly shushed by his advisor, even though his bedroom walls were thick enough to mask even the most venomous Niff insults.  
  
“Whatever we think of them, we must present ourselves well so they’ll have no pretense to cancel the peace treaty.”  
  
“Don’t trust ‘em even if they  _don’t_  cancel it,” Noctis muttered.  
  
Ignis smiled. “Fortunately, it was not your trust but your attendance which Emperor Aldercapt and his empire required.”  
  
_Don’t remind me._  Tonight was the peace banquet, one of the few stipulations Niflheim had wanted in their peace treaty with Lucis—that Noctis knew of, anyway. Those Niff snakes could have asked for anything else, and they would have been forced to comply because it was better than losing more people to the trenches, and losing more of King Regis’ life to that thrice-damned Ring and Crystal and Wall. Even though the Empire wasn’t doing much better, they at least didn’t have to channel most of their firepower through one mortal.  
  
One way or another, their countries’ stalemate had to end.  
  
Noct’s dad had met briefly with him at lunch to discuss who among Niflheim’s elite would be present for the dinner and the subsequent signing the following morning, but they hadn’t gotten far before Regis was called away yet again—more business about Insomnia’s security. So other than the Emperor, his Chancellor and maybe some generals, Noct was going into this a little more blindly than he liked for official matters of the state.  
  
“Are you ready?” Ignis inquired.  
  
“As I’ll ever be.”

  
  
Subterfuge was not Noctis’ strong suit. It had taken a solid week of mock dinners for him to feel comfortable enough reading other people’s faces and taming his own expression to match the cool detachment expected of a king-to-be. And even after  _that_ , the banquet with Niflheim was torture.  
  
By right of rank, Regis sat in the middle of the Lucian table, in direct eye contact with the Niflheimr Emperor at the table across the way. His Shield Clarus sat at his left, and Noctis moved at once to take his place at his father’s right with his own Shield, Gladio, close behind him and ready for trouble. He’d been announced proudly by one of House Lucis Caelum’s servants and didn’t even flinch at Aldercapt’s rough greeting, which was a small win in his book.  
  
Even so—there was a frisson of discomfort in the entire room. Regis and Iedolas traded subtle barbs and (surprisingly genuine) compliments about the food, cooked by representatives of both nations and triple-checked for poison. The wizened old man at Aldercapt’s left, who was the official scientist according to Ignis, speared the food on his plate like he was experimenting with it, all while eyeing everyone in a very creepy fashion. And Noct’s entire back felt like it was on fire every time he looked up from his plate to find the Chancellor of Niflheim smirking at him from Aldercapt’s right.  
  
But nothing bothered him more than the two empty seats at Niflheim’s table across from Gladio and Ignis. He racked his brain desperately—who else could possibly be invited to this meeting that he’d forgotten about?  
  
“Prince Noctis.”  
  
Noct nearly jumped in his seat—his father was looking at him, gesturing toward their guests with one eyebrow raised.  _Oh, Six._  Apparently they had noticed his distraction.  
  
“Is something troubling His Highness?” the Chancellor ( _Izunyay? Izunia?_ ) called merrily from across the ballroom. Hopefully he wasn’t trying to sound concerned, because he was failing miserably.  
  
Still, Noctis put his best foot forward and tried not to sound rude. “Uh—apologies, Chancellor, but I was wondering if there weren’t other members of your party yet to arrive from Niflheim.”  
  
“How perceptive! Although they are not arriving from our Gralea, we  _do_  have two more esteemed guests participating in our peaceful dinner. Emperor, if they have arrived—”  
  
Aldercapt nodded briskly and gestured toward his own attendants, who nodded in turn. “They have. Merely delayed by the snow in Tenebrae—send them in.”  
  
_Tenebrae?!_  
  
Noctis barely felt Gladio squeeze his forearm warningly. His mind was already off, faster than warping, putting the pieces together just in time for the doors to open and the Niflheim attendants to speak up.  
  
“Announcing Lord Ravus and Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae!”  
  
Two figures in blue-trimmed white finery stepped in together, keeping their faces mostly stoic as they crossed the ballroom and approached the Niflheim dining table. It’s only when they had to pass Lucis’ table that Noctis was able to lock eyes briefly with the younger of the pair, and just the brief softening of her eyes had him in another daze.  
  
_Luna._

 

  
He clutched his own hands under the table, trying not to come apart at the seams. Of  _course_ , of  _course_  he knew that Tenebrae was under Niflheim control, that the Nox Fleuret siblings were pretty much forbidden to even breathe near Lucian lands without permission and strict monitoring—it was why he was forced to communicate with Lunafreya magically rather than electronically or personally. But knowing something and then having that thing turned on its head when the last Tenebraen royals showed up in his home was something else entirely.  
  
_Why would the empire allow them here?_  
  
“We are naturally more than pleased to welcome the House of Nox Fleuret to Insomnia,” King Regis said into the thick, shocked silence that had enveloped his side of the room. “But, Iedolas, I confess to being confused as well.”  
  
_Confused_ , Noct thought, his eyes fixed on Luna as she spread her gown and sat with her brother’s aid.  _Yeah, that’s one way to put it._  
  
“This war has been long and bitter, Regis,” Aldercapt replied. He certainly wasn’t one to mince words. “Simply signing a piece of paper and ceasing open hostilities will do little in the eyes of the people. There must be a public form of reconciliation.”  
  
His father agreed, but Noctis wasn’t so sure—he just  _couldn’t_  see Niflheim going from weekly assassination-attempts-by-mech to hand-clasping at diplomatic unity events. Not with how disgruntled the scientist looked, and how darkly  _delighted_  the Chancellor appeared.  
  
“So, what,” he butted in, ignoring Ignis’ intake of breath, “you’re going to have us all sign the treaty outside?”  
  
Ravus Nox Fleuret made a noise across the room that sounded like an aborted murder plot; even the Emperor looked a bit irritated. Noct didn’t bother looking down his table to see what the reactions from the Lucian delegation were.  
  
The Imperial Chancellor, however, didn’t seem to lose any of his overenthusiasm. “Dear boy, that would accomplish even less! No, the esteemed Emperor speaks of a more  _personal_  reconciliation. You might even call it a union.”  
  
Someone cleared their throat in that moment and Chancellor Izunia’s attention turned toward them. Noctis looked too—it was Lunafreya.  
  
“What kind of reconciliation did you have in mind, Chancellor?” she queried.  
  
Her voice was soft and sweet, like resting face-first on a pillow. Though she clearly held no trust for the man, her tone was neutral, displaying only bland curiosity.  
  
“I’m  _so_  glad you asked!” Izunia chirped. In a matter of moments, he was at the other end of his table, nearly faster than blinking. He overrode Ravus’ warning glare and movements and guided Luna to her feet, leading her into the unoccupied center of the room facing the bemused-but-wary Lucians. Theatrically, he extended his other arm out toward none other than Noctis.  
  
“The best and most long-lasting union of all—for I’ve proposed that  _you_ , my dear Lady Lunafreya, and  _you_ , Prince Noctis, shall be wed and seal the peace of your nations at the altar.”

 

A strange phenomenon came over the room then, where certain people’s faces started changing colors in the naked silence after this bold proclamation. Ravus turned a very flattering purple; the scientist paled to ash gray; and Noctis felt his own face burn redder than a Lucian tomato.  
  
Only the King and the Emperor looked relatively unfazed by the Chancellor’s words—they even seemed to converse silently with one another while the rest of the room erupted in mixed protest and acknowledgement.  
  
“Chancellor Izunia, intriguing as this suggestion may be, it has not been discussed with—”  
  
“You expect us to offer you the Crown Prince and pride of Lucis before we have called off the war?”  
  
“It would be a fair match, so long as Niflheim has enough stake in the match of Tenebrae’s daughter and Lucis’ son—”  
  
“ _Have you gone mad, Ardyn?!”_ Ravus hissed, perhaps more openly than he intended; Noctis was too embarrassed to be angry about his open hostility, but Ignis and Gladio were more than happy to stare him down in their prince’s stead.  
  
“Madness is relative,” Izunia said dismissively. “Come now, let us put posturing aside and be  _reasonable_. Emperor, you have agreed that treaties are so easily tucked away; the stakes that follow disobedience are minimal at best.”  
  
“So I have.”  
  
“Your Majesty, I turn then to you. Surely you are not averse to sacrificing your son for the greater good of our nations? Non-lethally, of course.”  
  
Noctis felt his father stiffen next to him and wondered at it—then chalked it down to the tardily tacked-on assurance from the Chancellor coupled with the mischief so clearly dancing in his eyes.  
  
“Though I am king, it is not my place to speak for my son,” Regis eventually replied, with a storm brewing in his own gaze. “It is for him to decide whether to accept this additional proviso.”  
  
Izunia hummed. “Of course, how  _silly_  of me to forget—consent from both involved should be the primary focus.”  
  
Noctis stopped breathing.  
  
“Dearest Lunafreya, what say you to this proposal? Would you be willing to marry for the good of the Empire?”  
  
Luna met the older man’s gaze steadily, standing up straighter and removing her hand from his arm. She waved Ravus off as he moved to rise again, and then turned her attention back toward the royalty, retainers and congress of Insomnia.  
  
“I hold no ill will toward the Lucis Caelum line,” she began, “and peace has been a hope ever forefront in my mind. As such, I would be happy to marry Noctis.”  
  
Regis smiled at her; Clarus untensed from his other side; and Noctis breathed again.  
  
_Happy. She would be happy._  
  
Izunia—Ardyn—gestured towards him again. “And you, Highness? Not just anyone could boast of being the Oracle’s betrothed…”  
  
Even though he was thrilled—even though his heart was kicking excitedly in his chest both from Luna’s presence in Insomnia and her willingness to tie herself to him after ten years of short-but-intimate conversation—it took him a few precious moments to swallow and clear his throat and make his voice heard. “I… I’d be honored to marry the Oracle, and I’m happy to marry Luna—Lady Lunafreya, I mean.”  
  
He didn’t even see the Chancellor’s predatory smirk or feel his father squeeze his forearm approvingly under the table. Luna’s small smile was the only thing he could focus on.  
  
“Excellent, excellent!” Izunia clapped triumphantly. “Emperor Iedolas, King Regis, shall we discuss specifics now that both parties have agreed to join their futures and ours with them?”  
  
“We shall,” Aldercapt agreed briskly.  
  
“I concur,” Regis said. “But not over dinner. Let us send in the rest to dance and mingle, and conduct business in a more private locale.”

  
  
Noct was still a bit unsteady and dazed an hour later.  
  
The banquet had been mostly cleared away and turned into a full-fledged networking of sorts—Lucian and Niflheimr dignitaries formerly forbidden to speak and flirt and trade were taking full advantage of the Citadel’s ballroom, even knowing more chances to connect were to come. Though it was stilted at first, a few pairs from either party had even come together to dance while they talked.  
  
His dad had gone off with Clarus, Cor, Aldercapt and Izunia to hammer out their fledgling peace in an adjoining room. Noct almost wished they had taken Ravus with them—the older prince had muscled through three people to try and get at him (and probably beat the shit out of Noct for daring to agree to marry Luna). Only Ignis’ timely interception halted Ravus in his tracks long enough for Gladio to spirit Noct across the ballroom and out onto a private balcony.  
  
He still wasn’t sure how he felt about the banquet—about the posturing and plotting—about the end result, being fleshed out even now out of his reach. On the one hand, the war was over, or nearly so, which would mean much less pressure for all of Lucis—especially if they were allowed to have the lands back they had previously ceded to Niflheim.  
  
On the other hand, he’d gone from being a somewhat-wayward crown prince to a soon-to-be- _wed_  crown prince. Wed to the Oracle of Eos. Wed to  _Luna_ , his most secret confidant.  
  
He stuck his head a little further out over the balcony, and breathed deeply.  
  
Gladio was leaning casually against the entrance back to the ballroom, occasionally chatting but no less attentive to the one he was meant to guard. With his safety assured, Noctis should have been thinking about how this would affect his kingdom, or how this could be an elaborate trap set by the Niffs to get everyone’s guard down. Should have wondered at how easily that Chancellor turned the room toward his idea.  
  
But he just couldn’t  _focus_.  
  
“Noctis?”  
  
He whirled around, heart in his throat.  
  
Luna stood under the arch. She’d obviously just spoken briefly with Gladio because he was standing just enough to the side to have let her through, and was now grinning at Noct over her head. From up close, her white dress had minuscule silver-blue sparkles all over it that twinkled at him as warmly as her eyes did.

“H-Hey,” he stammered, and then hated himself.

Ten years apart and the first thing he said to her face was  _hey?_  
  
“I sought you out in the ballroom but couldn’t make it to you before you left,” she explained. “But perhaps this is a better place for us to speak.”  
  
Noctis nodded, and managed to smile when she joined him on the balcony proper. “Yeah… but as long as we can talk for as long as we want, I’m okay.”  
  
“You’ll get no short dog-delivered missive from me tonight.” Did Luna’s eyes twinkle again?  
  
He gave her a huge pretend relieved sigh in response before actually laughing, feeling a lot more comfortable all of a sudden. Her humor was just as subtle and selective as ever. Even though she looked absolutely stunning, she was still Luna, still one of his closest friends.  
  
“I’m glad you think so,” Luna said kindly.  
  
“Uh—”  _Six, did I say that out loud?_  
  
She held her hands out for peace before he could stammer out an apology or a clarification—but he was pleased to see that her ears looked a little pink.  
  
He tried another avenue of conversation. “Did they—did they treat you all right? On the way here I mean, not…”  
  
“No, I understand. Though we were pressured to arrive here in timely fashion, Ravus and I were mostly left with a minimal escort.” Her lips twitched. “A shame that it was not minimal enough.”  
  
Noct glanced at her. Her words made him wonder if her presence here had been more of a sacrifice than it appeared on the surface. She  _did_  have a point—if there’d been fewer guards on the airship they ‘borrowed’ to arrive, if she’d been able to convince her steely brother to defect, if they hadn’t been made to come to this potential farce of a peace talk…  
  
Luna put one of her hands over one of his.  
  
“Dispense with your guilt, Noctis. Had we tried to escape, we would not have gotten far even with a few hours’ head start—and then I would not have been able to see you tonight.”  
  
“I’ve missed you too,” he said frankly, bolstered by the warmth of her fingers. “And I’m glad you’re here—you’re  _both_  here. How long will you be staying? Maybe my dad could claim guest rights for you—the old rules—”  
  
“…‘Maybe’,” Luna echoed. “Or maybe it would tip the Empire’s hand, should they wish you both ill after all. I am not pleased either by the prospect of leaving Lucis once more, but haste will not benefit us in this. Whether Chancellor Izunia meant to or not, he has given me a chance to be free of the Empire’s bondage; I shan’t squander it.”  
  
The look she gave him was a little stern, almost admonishing him for wanting to rush her safety; and at first Noct felt a little hurt— _doesn’t she know I just want to protect her like I couldn’t back then?_ —before he remembered his view of the battlefields, the scarred land beyond the Wall, the fearless MTs that cut down so many of his father’s glaives, and Tenebraen soldiers before them.  
  
“I won’t squander this either,” he assured her. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to waste any chance to get you out from under their thumb.”  
  
She clasped her hands together over the railing. “Fate willing, we will have our best chance soon.”  
  
Noctis suddenly realized that this was the second time in as many minutes that Luna had subtly mentioned the wedding.  _Their_  wedding. The whole reason he was out here cooling his face and regulating his breathing in the first place.  
  
_What if she just said those things to get that guy off her back?_  
  
The absence of her hand near his was suddenly, painfully evident. He had to know how she really felt about this arrangement, even if it hurt. “Luna, about that chance…”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“Are you really okay with marrying me?”  
  
Luna—blushed, there was no other word for it. But it was a beautiful thing to watch: pale pink spots crawled sedately up from her throat to her face, gently accenting her cheeks. Noct was entranced by the show of it, so much so that he barely noticed his own returning embarrassment or felt his own gut-clenching anticipation.  
  
“Noctis… before, I spoke true. Freedom from the Empire’s grasp is one of my most secret wishes, but… I have missed you, these ten years. Though we only met briefly as children, I enjoyed the easy friendship we shared and the trust you allowed me.”  
  
“I did too,” he blurted; her acceptance of his limitations at the time had bolstered his wounded pride and soothed his chaotic feelings about his injury and what it meant for his legacy. “I mean… the way you looked at me and talked to me, I never felt  _less_ , Luna. I always felt like I could be  _more_  and do  _more_. You helped me heal in more ways than one.”  
  
“And in return, you’ve sent small soothing balms to me with every missive you’ve written in our notebook,” Luna replied. “I’ve lived a dark existence since my mother’s passing, and your words were sometimes the only light I could see. And now, seeing you in front of me and knowing that your words and feelings were sincere… of  _course_ I’m okay with marrying you, Noctis. I  _want_  to marry you. I want to live for a while at your side, doing things  _with_ you rather than  _through_  you.”  
  
She turned to face him with overbright eyes.  
  
“Is… is that something you want as well?”  
  
That was a softball question. Noctis stepped closer, taking her hands in his, grinning so widely he couldn’t feel the ends of his face.  
  
“Luna, you’re one of my closest friends a-and you’re so,  _so_  important to me.  _I_  want to marry  _you_  too. Not to protect you from the Niffs, but so we can spend time together like we were meant to.”  
  
The dampness in her eyes spilled over; though she still flushed prettily, it was harder to see under her tears.  
  
“I mean it!” he insisted, wondering if he was saying it all right or all wrong. “I want to take you out on dates to nice places in Insomnia, and put up with Ravus threatening to kill me while he chaperones. I can get a ring for you and we can take wedding pictures—wait, Prompto can take them—do you remember Prompto? He’s my best friend and the best photographer I’ve ever met—”  
  
Luna touched her nose to his, effectively shutting him up.  
  
“I look forward to every moment of it,” she whispered sincerely.  
  
She was so close that Noct could see some of the stars in her eyes, along with his own earnest expression—and he bent to be closer still, thinking that this was the perfect time to tangibly seal their promise—  
  
Someone cleared their throat.  
  
Noctis almost groaned when Luna jumped a little and moved backward, especially when he realized the culprit was Gladio.  
  
“Hate to cut that short,” the older man said, “but people are starting to look for you two. Something about dancing starting soon?”  
  
_Dancing? Oh, no…_  
  
“Of course, thank you, Gladiolus,” Luna said graciously. As she spoke, she fished pristine white gloves from somewhere and dabbed at her face, smiling at her fiancé. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”  
  
“I… yeah…”  
  
Frantically, he went through his memory, trying to figure out what to do. Sure, he could  _dance_ , he’d practiced before with Ignis and Gladio, but he hadn’t really taken it all that seriously, and now people were going to ask him to  _dance_. With  _Luna_. In front of her  _brother_ , and  _Niffs_ , and—  
  
Gladio nudged him back through the balcony and into the ballroom, close enough after Luna that it would look like they’d entered together. They were immediately set upon by several voices among the sudden swell of celebratory orchestral music.  
  
“Prince Noctis, Lady Lunafreya! Congratulations on your engagement!”  
  
“Princess Lunafreya, do me the honor of dancing with me first?”  
  
“And you with me, Prince Noctis!”  
  
Noct immediately wanted to go back outside—and probably would have made a go for it if his Shield wasn’t right behind him. But Luna only smiled at the growing crowd as they closed in.  
  
“With all due respect, I would like to have the first dance with my fiancé,” she requested, looking at him. “If he would oblige?”  
  
Noct was saying “Uh—yeah—” before he knew what hit him, and then his pen pal-turned-fiancée was leading him out to the middle of the floor before he’d digested that  _he had agreed to start dancing first_.  
  
_Thank the Six Dad hasn’t gotten back yet. He doesn’t have to watch me fail in person._  
  
Nervously he stood up straighter, clearing his throat as he tried to find where exactly to put his hands that wouldn’t embarrass both himself and Luna. Both Iggy and Gladio were quite a bit taller, which had tripped him up for the first few weeks of practice, and oh yeah,  _Ravus was watching him_. One wrong move from Noct would ensure he had no hand to put his own ring on at the wedding.  
  
“You’re all right,” Luna whispered. In seconds she’d guided his hand to the right spot on her waist and taken his other hand in hers for a simple waltz.  
  
“Are you ready, Noctis?”  
  
He took a breath and gave her a small smile. “Ready.”

 

They started slowly, matching the hesitant flutter of the music. Noct counted  _one-two-three_  in his head over and over, focusing on stepping perfectly, on not stepping on his partner’s feet, until those hours of offhand dance practice for prior court functions kicked in and he was in admirable form.  
  
For her part, Luna not only looked and sounded radiant, she also danced brilliantly. Her steps were light and sure as they kept time; she felt light as a feather the first time he lifted and twirled her in a half-circle, and every time after. Her dress glittered under the chandeliers, alluring and flattering. The first time she beamed during the dance, it seemed to suck any remaining tension out of the room.  
  
Noctis had been dimly aware of a brief bit of applause the first time he’d lifted Luna, but he’d hardly spared it a thought. Even now, as other delegates and representatives and nobles filed onto the floor to join them in their waltz, he couldn’t think of them—didn’t want to. All of his attention was on Luna. It took no effort at all to smile back at her, to playfully dip her at one point and hold her a little closer at another. He didn’t care that everyone was smiling at them and whispering about them—all he cared about was  _her_  smile,  _her_  whispers, as they made a moment for themselves surrounded by others.  
  
“You had no reason to be nervous at all,” she said now, teasing him a little. “I could almost feel you sweating on the way in, and here you are performing perfectly.”  
  
“Trust me, this isn’t all me.”  _Thank you, Iggy, thank you, Gladio, thank you thank you thank you._  “I’ve got a few people to thank after this is over.”  
  
“Thank them for me too.”  
  
He chuckled, sending her into a light spin so her dress would catch the light again.  
  
“Noctis, surely I won’t have to wait until I return to Insomnia to meet Prompto? I’ve waited so long already—and it wouldn’t be right to meet Ignis and Gladiolus and not him—”  
  
Step, spin. “Nah, don’t worry, I can sneak him in tomorrow if you want—wait, when did you meet Iggy?”  
  
“On my way to you,” she laughed. “You probably noticed that Ravus isn’t in the best of moods following the Chancellor’s idea…”  
  
“No, really? You sure?”  
  
She gave him a look that didn’t last long under her own amusement. “Well, I felt obligated to speak sense into him that he wouldn’t threaten an arrangement that was surely fragile, so I sought him out before you. Ignis was at his side, making conversation. Something about pastries?”  
  
“That cheater!” Noctis gasped. “I offered to find the recipe  _for_  him and he said he’d figure it out on his own—”  
  
“What recipe?”  
  
“Er—I’ll tell you about it later—”  
  
Luna subtly changed their direction to match the rest of the couples. “Ignis seems very sweet, and very capable. I don’t think my brother has thought about you once since I left his side.”  
  
“Wait, what? What’s Iggy—are they still talking right now?”  
  
She sneaked a peek around his shoulder, but her grin told him that she didn’t really need to. “Oh no, now they’re dancing.”  
  
“ _Dancing?”_  
  
“Well, perhaps they’re simply locked in a more physical, court-appropriate battle of wills. Shall we say that Ravus is trying to reach us to break our dance and Ignis is preventing him in the best way he can?”  
  
“…Sure, let’s go with that.”  _I owe him big time later._  
  
For a few turns they were quiet, and no one stepped forward to cut in. The silence was comfortable, and Noct let the buzz of other people’s words and steps carry him through the rest of the first song, then through another. Wherever the Six were these days, he reminded himself to send them some extra-nice gifts for letting him have so much time with Luna after so long apart.  
  
When they did talk, it was Luna who once again initiated conversation. “I was jesting some about Ravus earlier, but I  _am_  still concerned at the depths of his hostility toward King Regis and you. He is loath to threaten any happiness I find, but with his lingering anger… his place in the Empire’s army… I worry that reconciliation between our houses will never be a reality.”  
  
That was something that worried Noctis too. But there was nothing he could do besides plead his case for what had happened in Tenebrae all those years ago, and he told her so. “Ravus has a right to be angry. I know what it looks like in my memory… that we ran after your mother died, that we couldn’t save either of you… but I can’t fall on his sword and neither can my dad. We have to protect Lucis—”  
  
“And the world. I couldn’t agree more.”  
  
“—and we all have to protect  _you_ ,” Noct finished. “You’re the Oracle, the hope for Eos. Not just my friend, not just his sister. Tell him—no,  _I’ll_  tell him—he can hate me all he wants, but at least respect that I want the best for you too. And for him. Even if he won’t have it.”  
  
Was it his imagination, or did Luna’s eyes look a little too bright again? “Your sentiment is unclouded by posturing or selfishness. And even after all this time, you still care for his well-being in addition to mine. That’s why I hope there is a peaceful road for us.”  
  
“Me too.”  
  
Gladio twirled by them, looking proud of himself. A young woman in green was in his arms, looking a bit starry-eyed; considering how good his Shield was in social situations, Noct could relate.  
  
“Should we be worried about the Chancellor?” he asked her. “Is there anything he gets out of us getting married?”  
  
“It  _is_  strange that he suggested it,” Luna allowed, “but Chancellor Izunia has been strange for as long as Ravus and I have known him. He takes pleasure from odd things, and sometimes things not so odd. He always seems to be planning something—for example, he specifically instructed that I “dress to impress” for tonight’s banquet.”  
  
“Oh…”  
  
“Mm. He has a cruel streak that I have heard whispers of but never experienced. And always he carries a cloud of malice around him… but even knowing this, I do not fear him. I do not worry about him.” She lifted one hand, placing it on his cheek. “And you shouldn’t either. You have a greater destiny than trading political barbs with emperors or chancellors.”  
  
_That Chosen King stuff._  “Yeah, I know.”  
  
The song drifting through the air moved to its last verse, and the couples slowed to match. Noct and Luna were so close together that the black and white of their clothes blended even as they moved from spinning to swaying.  
  
“You’re a  _really_  good dancer, Luna,” Noct murmured.  
  
She hummed. “You aren’t the only one who’s done some practicing to avoid diplomatic embarrassment.”  
  
Abruptly he imagined Luna twirling around Fenestala Manor with a faceless Niff guard or a retainer from House Nox Fleuret, and had to fight to keep his jaw unclenched.  
  
“Something wrong?”  
  
“Please tell me Ravus was your only partner.”  
  
Luna smirked. She leaned closer, touching her cheek to his to whisper playfully in his ear. “Are you jealous?”  
  
“Jealous of— You’re my wife!”  
  
“Not yet.”  
  
“ _Luna_ ,” he whined.  
  
“Oh, hush. When we marry, I’ll dance with you every day if you like.”  
  
“I  _would_  like that,” Noctis said more seriously. “A lot. I’ll make a decree for it when I’m king.”  
  
Luna stopped stepping in time with him to laugh. Noct moved to nudge her back into formation before he noticed that the whirling couples had broken apart and were facing the wide front doors; both had just opened to admit his father, Clarus, the Emperor and the Chancellor, back at last from their prolonged talk of terms.  
  
The assembly bowed and curtsied.  
  
“Rise,” King Regis allowed. His eyes were calm and his composure was steady. As he unbent, Noct assumed that nothing untoward had transpired while they were away, and the thought made his next breaths come easier.  
  
Aldercapt said something about bringing the festivities to a close for the night and locating their accommodations; the prince felt his heart sink when his father agreed, effectively bringing his time together with Luna to a close as well.  
  
He tried not to show his feelings on his face, or through his hands by holding her tighter. But as always, even through their written words, Luna seemed to know the instant his mood took a turn for the worse; and as she’d done when they were children, she closed the already-minimal distance between them and cupped his cheek in her tiny, delicate hand, the hand he’d (Astrals willing) slide a ring onto someday.  
  
“We both have other duties to attend to,” she reminded him, “other roles we must play on this grand stage. But what we have now is more time. The distance between us is close to naught.”  
  
That  _did_  make Noctis smile. Though security measures prevented any guests from being housed on the same corridor as Lucian royalty, his dad was just as fond of the Nox Fleuret line as Noct was and would factor that in to temporary housing. Luna could be as close as one corner away.  
  
Still, he couldn’t resist trying to wheedle more time from her as the guests dispersed and he spotted platinum-blond hair heading their way in a hurry. “What if you come meet me in the rooftop gardens after everyone’s asleep for one more dance—?”  
  
“I make no promises,” Luna demurred gently, though she did seem quietly alight at the idea. “But I can promise this. While tonight we may have to separate, the sun will shine again tomorrow, and when it does, we will be together again.”  
  
Noctis turned his head, partly to hide his blush in her hand and partly to kiss her palm, sealing his part of the promise. “…Okay. I can wait.”  
  
“Don’t sleep in,” she teased, and then Ravus was there, giving Noct only the faintest of glowers before escorting his sister away.  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it!” he called after her—and as he moved to his father’s side, Noctis reminded himself to have Iggy wake him up extra early just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to Prompto for only mentioning him in this. No apologies to Verstael for not tagging him though.


End file.
